The Doctor's Child
by Vengeful
Summary: It wasn't that he didn't know about babies or birth. He just hadn't expected that any child of his and Rose's could be so...normal. And bald. TenII/Rose.


**A/N: First story in a long time, and first Doctor Who story in general. Basically TenII/Rose crack. Because I've been revising for finals all week and I have to leave England on Saturday. Also, this may or may not be proof that alcohol and writing don't mix. Ah well. Enjoy and review.  
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**Emily**

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It looked suspiciously alien in nature. He wasn't sure what species-X'ah, perhaps, or maybe a Paluma; whatever it was, it did not look human. He stared at it hard and long, pulled on the glasses he really didn't need but Rose insisted he have, and looked again at the bundle in the woman's arms.

Nope. Still didn't look remotely human.

He was aware that everyone was watching him eagerly, the bundle included, waiting for him to say something sentimental and sappy and heart melting as he looked at the face of his first-born son.

So instead, he said, "Is it supposed to be this red and wrinkly?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jackie roll her eyes and Pete shoot him a pitying look. From the bed, Rose, rather red and sticky herself, glared at him. The nurse, for her part, didn't seem fazed. Instead, she smiled brightly and said, "He's just been born, Doctor Smith. Give 'im an hour and he'll be the cutest thing you've ever seen. Here, Dad, hold him and you'll change your mind."

And with that, the child was thrust into his arms. It looked up at him, he looked down at it, and then it started to squall.

Which, to be fair, would have been his reaction if suddenly taken out of a nice, warm, safe place and placed into the arms of a man who really hadn't the faintest idea of what to do. He looked up helplessly at Rose, but she was still under the influence of the drugs she'd been given upon going into labor, and besides, he was positive that after being in labor for nine hours, the last thing she wanted to do was deal with a hopeless Time-lord-human hybrid and a screaming child.

"Try talking to him," the nurse urged. "He wants to hear his daddy's voice."

The Doctor, though not fluent in baby speak (even with the TARDIS and as a Time Lord, it had always remained a mystery to him, probably not helped by his tendency to stay as far away from infants as possible), was fairly certain that this was _not_ what the child was saying. Still, since no one appeared to be jumping up to stop the crying, he gave it a try.

"Um, hello?" he said. "I'm the Doctor." Nothing. "Welcome to the world?" he tried. Still nothing. "I'm your Dad?"

The baby cried even louder, if possible. "We're happy to see you," he said this time. It was mostly true-he was excited about being a father and watching Rose be a mother. He simply hadn't expected things to be quite so messy, or the baby to be quite so… bald. And messy. And loud. Apparently, the child knew that at this particular moment, his statement hadn't been entirely accurate, because its cries reached a decibel level the Doctor had previously thought impossible for a human to reach.

He was reassessing his initial prognosis. If anything, this child was definitely a Chribi- there was no other explanation for how this much noise could come from something that small.

Oh, he'd heard about the process of birth and been warned about the screams, of course. He'd even assisted in a few births before, both human and alien. He knew the basics, knew that birth was a messy and unpleasant process and that babies liked to cry. Still, this was him and Rose, the couple the Universes couldn't keep apart. He might have had only one heart, but he was still part Time Lord, the most advanced race to have ever existed. And she was Rose. And really, there had been no reason to suspect that any child of theirs would be anything other than extraordinary. And he was, really. It was just…

He was so _normal_. Loud, sticky, and quite frankly, very, very ugly. Just like every newborn baby. Although, come to think of it, it really wasn't surprising that any child of his was loud. He'd always had a gob, this body.

The nurse seemed to finally take pity on him and took the infant away to clean up and put in the nursery. Though he still didn't need as much sleep as a normal human, the Doctor was exhausted. It had been an excruciatingly painful and long day. He collapsed on the chair situated by the bed. Rose already had her eyes closed, and he reached for her hand, which lay limply on the side of the bed. As he took it in his own, she murmured, "Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"We did it."

He smiled softly. "Yeah," he agreed. And they had. So what if the boy was loud and ugly? He was young yet, and the Doctor had seen more amazing ugly duck transformations. What mattered was they did it. He and Rose. Together.

And, he'd just remembered the formula to a hair product from Zor guaranteed to make hair grow. If the kid didn't get better looking, at least he'd have a great head of hair.

And with that in mind, the Doctor smiled, gave Rose's hand a squeeze, and allowed himself to slip into his last peaceful sleep of the next eighteen years.


End file.
